


One More Word

by kashmir



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-16
Updated: 2008-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately post-<i>The Ark</i>, Rodney decides he needs to have a talk with Sheppard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_elf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=winter_elf).



> Beta by [unamaga](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unamaga) \- thank you love, written for [](http://winter-elf.livejournal.com/profile)[**winter_elf**](http://winter-elf.livejournal.com/) who won me over at Sweet Charity, um... a long time ago. Sorry it took so long! Big, huge thanks to [](http://amberlynne.livejournal.com/profile)[**amberlynne**](http://amberlynne.livejournal.com/) and [](http://aesc.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aesc.livejournal.com/)**aesc** for the cheerleading and hand holding. &lt;3

After much thought and careful deliberation, during both their journey home, the debriefing and routine med check post-mission, Rodney had a plan of action in place. He always did better when he had a plan. And right then, as he made his way from the infirmary to John's quarters, his plan was that he would be calm and cool and collected when he explained to Sheppard exactly how much of a dumbass he was and how Rodney didn't appreciate his boyf-lov-speci-whatever the hell they were calling each other having a martyr complex.

Pleased with himself and his plan to keep his head and not get upset while he reads Sheppard the riot act, he stepped into the transporter on his way to the residential wing. He passed a group of Marines on patrol with a preoccupied nod once he was there. His mouth (and maybe his chest, but that could be related to how fast he was walking) tightened at the thought of how Sheppard had just not only flown a rocket that looked like something Rodney's _niece_ had put together with tinker toys and some spit (_honestly_, he thought to himself, _who _does_ that?_), but when things had looked hopeless (again), Sheppard had chosen 'no, not really' as his last words.

Almost as good as 'so long.'

By the time he reached Sheppard's hallway in the residential wing, he had worked up a full head of steam over the Colonel's reckless endangerment of his own life and had thrown calm, cool and collected out the proverbial window for some well-placed irritation - and maybe some anger, too. That, he figured, might actually get through Sheppard's thick skull.

As he waved his hands agitatedly over the chimes beside John's door, he took a deep breath and straightened his science team jacket, hoping he appeared outwardly calmer than how he felt on the inside.

John looked slightly irritated himself when he answered his door (and also really hot, but Rodney tried to not fixate on that) and Rodney let himself frown a little.

"Can I help you, McKay?" he asked, slouched against the doorway.

Rodney pushed his way past John, tossing, "We have to talk," over his shoulder like an afterthought as he installed himself in the middle of John's room with his arms crossed over his chest.

John sighed from his position in the doorway and, straightening, mumbled a sarcastic, "Sure, come on in, McKay. Wasn't doing anything besides cleaning my golf clubs."

Rodney paused in preparation to launch into his speech to turn and look at John. "Is that a euphemism?"

John snorted and rolled his eyes before pointing to the bed. "No, McKay - I was _actually_ cleaning my clubs."

Rodney paused again before he started to pace. "Well, that's neither here nor there. I came here to discuss-"

John sat down on the side of his bed and picked a rag and one of his clubs up. "The money you owe me?"

Rodney stopped and stared, rant completely derailed. "What money? I don't owe you any money, Sheppard!"

John pointed a finger at him before he started in on the club. "No welshing. A bet is a bet, McKay."

Rodney threw up his hands. "I came here, Colonel, to discuss your latest attempt at a suicide mission."

John shrugged before putting the golf club down. "Rodney, listen. Everything worked out fine, we saved the day, everybody goes home happy. What's the big deal?" He paused to smile. "And, come on, I got to fly a rocket!"

Rodney felt his mouth drop open. "You did not 'fly' anything, Colonel. You demonstrated, once again, that you have the self-preservation instincts of a _gnat_!"

John sighed. "I already had this conversation with Elizabeth, Rodney. I'm not having it with you, too."

Rodney sputtered. "Oh, yes you are! You crash landed in a _rocket_ that could've passed for a prop on Doctor Who! And I don't mean the new series - I mean during the Tom Baker era!"

"It all worked out okay - there's no reason to still be so upset!" John said stubbornly.

"I have every reason to be upset!" Rodney flailed a little and doubted that it was helping his case.

"Name one," John demanded, crossing his arms.

Rodney thought for a minute before he snapping his fingers and then pointing at John. "Oh, oh, and what was that 'no, not really' stuff, huh? You didn't have any last words for you know your - the person - well, me?!?"

John pouted a little, Rodney could see it out of the corner of his eye from where he was busy wearing a path into John's floor. "Rodney, it's not like I could've said something anyway, Lorne and Captain Hill were right there."

Rodney stopped, crossed his arms and gave John the stink eye. "A 'Nice working with you' or 'I'll miss you' would've sufficed."

John rolled his eyes. "I'll remember that for next time. Geesh, Rodney, what's got you so worked up?"

"_Next time_! " Rodney thundered. "What do you mean next time?" When it looked like John was about to shoot off some smart-ass reply, Rodney fought down the urge to scream and took the two steps separating them, pushing John back onto the bed. "Just - shut up! Shut up you - you idiotic, cocky flyboy who thinks he has more lives than a cat!"

John opened his mouth, probably to protest at being compared to a cat or called cocky or who knows what but Rodney seized the opportunity instead to cup his face and kiss him hard, tongue licking across the lower bow of his mouth, seeking entrance.

John whined in the back of his throat and got with the program quickly, something Rodney had always admired. He wrapped one arm around Rodney's shoulders and, with his free hand, started tugging at Rodney's pants.

Rodney pulled away from John's wet and hot and oh so enticing mouth to sit up and help John get both of them naked. John was panting underneath him, cheeks flushed a bright red and Rodney hurriedly stripped his shirt off over his head so he could get back to those rosy lips.

John made a soft sound of protest and yanked at Rodney's waist band before pulling away from his kiss.

"Get naked so we can fuck already, Christ," he muttered and Rodney shivered at the low growl that John's voice had become. And really, how could he argue with that, especially when John shimmied and managed to divest himself of his own pants and then, within seconds, his shirt.

John went back to work on Rodney's pants, fingers hot and a little rough against the skin of Rodney's lower belly as they hurriedly undid his fly, stripping him of his pants and boxers in one fell swoop.

Before Rodney could even get them off the whole way, John's hand was on his cock, fingers deft and sure. Rodney moaned and batted them away, eyes focusing blurrily on John's petulant frown.

"I want to fuck you and if you keep doing that, I won't be able to," he explained, leaning over John to search desperately in the bedside table for the lube. John stretched underneath him and grinned as he spread his legs just a little, rubbing his hairy thigh against Rodney's side.

"Well, can't have that, can we?" he asked and Rodney had to kiss him then, depositing the lube by his shoulder and wiggling out of his pants the rest of the way. The kiss was slow, wet and lush - Rodney's favorite kind - and John whimpered quietly into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around him, pull him closer.

He pulled away after awhile, could feel the slick trail of pre-come where John's cock was resting between their bellies, and picked up the lube, all while tracing his eyes over John's body.

"God, you're sexy," he breathed, slicking up two fingers. John grinned as he raised his arms over his head, arching a little as he licked his lips.

"You're kinda hot in a space suit," was his answer and Rodney rolled his eyes as he pushed and prodded until John spread his legs a bit further.

"I take it back. You're not sexy, you're just a giant dork," Rodney murmured and before John could answer, started to ease one slick finger inside of John.

John's eyes lost their focus and he went all hazy and soft, teeth sinking into his swollen lower lip. "Oh yeah," he whispered, "S'good."

Rodney bit back a groan and pulled his finger out, only to push two back in. John's back arched at that as he let out a soft, low moan. He reached down and pulled his own legs up and back, eyes focusing intently on Rodney's face.

"Y'can finger me for hours some other time," he slurred. "Fuck me already, Rodney."

For once, Rodney was glad to do as he was told. He grabbed the lube and pulling his fingers out with a twinge of regret from John, slicked his cock before positioning himself between John's legs and lining up. They both groaned as he slid in, one long slow glide, John's body opening up around him until he was balls-deep inside of him.

He had to pause for a moment then, body slick with sweat, John's legs slung over his arms, and just breathe. He opened heavy eyes he didn't remember closing to look at John splayed out underneath him.

John looked about as gone as Rodney felt, a flush staining him from his cheeks down to mid-chest, skin damp with sweat, biting at his lip. He opened his eyes while Rodney was watching and arched, this long, sinuous movement that made Rodney's own eyelids flutter and then begged, in this fucked out, rough voice that Rodney knew he was going to be jerking off to for the rest of his life, for Rodney to, "Fuck me, dammit, Rodney, come on! Wanna feel it!"

Rodney pulled out almost the entire way before thrusting back inside, putting all his weight behind it, the power of it pushing John back against his bed and the pillows. John's lips curved upward and he arched his neck, begging Rodney some more.

"God, yes, like that…"

Rodney obeyed and gave John exactly what he was asking for. He fucked him ruthlessly, hips snapping as he thrust harder and harder, as John slowly went to pieces underneath him, thighs quivering, head tossing from side to side. In the very back of Rodney's brain, in the one tiny place not occupied with making John Sheppard lose his damn mind, Rodney hoped they didn't break the bed because that was one thing he was _not_ explaining to Elizabeth.

All too soon, he felt his orgasm start to curl its way up along his spine. "John - can you - need to see you come," he managed to get out and John must've understood him because in the next instant he wrapped a broad hand around his own cock and started to jerk himself in time with Rodney's increasingly erratic thrusts.

John came first, shuddering and shaking under Rodney as he clenched tight inside, striping his stomach, chest and even his throat with his come. Rodney let out a low whine and within three strokes was coming himself, forehead pressed to John's sweaty shoulder as he ground against his ass, white hot pleasure shorting his brain out momentarily.

When he could finally move, he gently slid out of John, wincing when he hissed and collapsed to the side. They were both still breathing hard and John's bed was a mess of lube and come. Rodney knew they'd have to get up and shower at some point but when John rolled onto his side and put his head next to Rodney's on the pillow, throwing one leg over Rodney's he figured the shower could wait.

They lay there in silence for awhile before Rodney spoke into the semi-darkness of the room.

"If it means that much to you, I'll build you a damn rocket."

He could feel John's smile as he pressed a kiss to the skin of Rodney's shoulder. "That's why I like you best, Rodney."

**END**


End file.
